Destiny of Vengeance
by ladyeverard
Summary: Morgana has nightmares of her future, and with the help of a mysterious being learns of her past and her magic. With her newly discovered knowledge and power she seeks justice in Camelot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction story so please read and review!**

Morgana often had strange nightmares, and sometimes those nightmares showed up unexpectedly in real life. Images of war and familiar faces floated through them and she always awoke sweaty, feeling fear trickle down her spine.

One of these nightmares was haunting her that night. A castle was up in flame.A pair of glowing yellow eyes peered at her and a slow trail of blood leaked across the floor. Lastly she saw herself. Her hair was a mess, her eyes hardened and her mouth formed into a wicked smirk. The Morgana of the dream smiled as her eyes lit up and someone crumpled to the ground.

She woke with a start. Her night clothes were pasted to her body with sweat and she was breathing heavily. She sat up, looking out at the moonlight outside her window. Whenever she had a nightmare like this she always reminded herself that it was simply a dream. However, sometimes her dreams appeared in reality. It was unnerving, to say the least. As she pondered the events of the nightmare, the more of it she recognized from her own life. The castle had looked a lot like Camelot. And there was the version of her in the dream. It appeared as though she had killed someone. Had the trail of blood been from the victim? The thought that she could be so cruel as to take life frightened her.

The next day as Gaius was preparing medicines Morgana entered the chambers, unannounced. She looked tired, her dark hair slightly unkempt, her usually bright eyes sunken, and her smile false.

Merlin acknowledged her entrance but did not notice her flustered state. Morgana asked Gaius about a sleeping draft and as their conversation droned on Merlin tuned out their voices. He was busy polishing Arthur's armor,grumbling to himself that if he did it by magic he would be done in a second. Gaius, however, thought the work would be good for him. _Arthur should try hard work sometime_ , he thought to himself. Arthur did train a lot for battle, which Merlin supposed was hard work in its own way, but Arthur had never cleaned up after himself one day in his entire life. _What a lousy reward for saving a dollophead countless times_ , Merlin thought as he attempted to get rid of a particularly stubborn spot.

"Merlin," Gaius's voice brought him out of his unhappy thoughts. "Could you please leave us?"

Merlin looked back at Gaius incredulously. He was nearly finished, and why did Morgana's sleeping problems need privacy from him? He was not even listening anyway. Morgana looked at him expectantly, and knowing that he couldn't object to the king's ward, he left the chamber with a sigh.

Outside in the corridor he was curious as to Morgana's mysteriousness. Why was it so important to speak with Gaius privately?

A few minutes later Morgana exited into the corridor, a vial clutched in her hand which Merlin assumed was filled with a sleeping draft.

"What was that about?" Merlin asked Gaius as he reentered the room.

"She is worried," Gaius replied vaguely as he made a note on a scrap of parchment.

"Why?"

"Strange dreams. I think they may be prophecies, in fact"

"What happened in her dreams?"

"I have already revealed to you my own suspicions, but I don't want to disregard Morgana's request for confidentiality."

"If she can see the future, she must have magic,right?"

"Perhaps. Only time will tell. Just get back to your polishing, Merlin. Or shall I call his majesty?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning the armor, but now his mind was not on the annoyance of the chore.

Morgana could not shake the chills her dream had given her. She tried to distract herself by hunting, talking with Gwen, teasing Arthur, but nothing could drive the thoughts from her mind. She relived the dream every night, even with Gaius's sleeping draft. She had explained her dream to Gaius when she requested the sleeping draft. He had comforted her, reminding her not to put much stock in a dream. Yet still she worried more and more that the events in her dream would come true. Although the murder horrified her, the thought that she might have magic excited her. Power had been something she had always quietly yearned for. But sorcery was forbidden in Camelot.

She tried to engage in conversation at dinner with Uther and Arthur, yet her mind always strayed to her uncertain future, and she wondered if she had magic. If she indeed could perform sorcery and Uther found out, he would probably banish her from Camelot. Or, more likely, have her

executed. A shutter rushed through her as the thought struck her.

"Are you alright, Morgana?" asked Uther having noticed her tremble.

"Oh, fine. Don't worry about me." She gave an unconvincing smile.

"Are you sure, you haven't eaten hardly anything," said Arthur whose own plate was piled high with food.

"I'm just feeling rather tired," she replied, taking the opportunity to leave, "I think I will retire early tonight."

"Get some rest," Uther called to her as she left the room. "You seem rather ill."

It was true that she was tired,as she had not slept well. The nightmares and fear of the nightmares ensured that she could never have a proper rest. Sleep engulfed her quickly as she laid her head to the pillow.

He knew the destiny of Lady Morgana better than anyone. He knew the destiny of many people and had previously put his faith in another to seek justice in Camelot. But as Morgana grew older and her fate clearer, he believed she would be the one to liberate Camelot. Uther had trained her to be like him, yet she would bend all his rules, and his mind one day. She slept peacefully now, but Morgana Pendragon would one day be powerful, and she would claim the vengeance of so many others. The thought made him smile to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

By then everyone had noticed the change in Morgana's behavior. She was always looking off into the distance, hardly ever answered a question directed at her, and never seemed in the mood to do anything. Even with Gwen, her closest friend and handmaiden, she was cross and unpleasant.

"What is wrong with Morgana?!" Arthur asked Merlin irritatedly after a particular encounter in which Morgana had ignored him altogether.

"Don't know, maybe she just doesn't want to talk to a clotpole like you," Merlin replied under his breath.

"What was that you said, Merlin?" Arthur glared at him.

"Nothing," he looked back guiltily.

"That's what I thought." Arthur turned away. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't sack you."

"Because if you did you wouldn't be able to clean up after yourself," he remarked in response.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, throwing a goblet that was sitting on the table at him.

"You see? Who has to pick this up?" said Merlin as he reached for the goblet on the floor, "Me."

"If I didn't have you as a servant I wouldn't have thrown it in the first place!"

Finding no good comeback to that, Merlin went to retrieve Arthur's dirty laundry. As he gathered it up his thoughts drifted back to Morgana. Merlin had his speculations about her, but he was not about to reveal them to Arthur. Since her meeting with Gaius he had been wondering what she had told Gaius. If she could predict the future in her dreams, she surely had magic. His suspicions had only increased as he had felt something growing, something magical, but he did not know what. He surmised that it had something to do with the Lady Morgana.

Morgana could not sleep, as usual. She lay awake, staring at the canopy above her, considering her dream as she always did. The silence and stillness of the night bothered her and she sat up. She needed to take a walk, to do anything that caused some sound and motion. She rose from her bed and opened the window and let the moonlight pool onto her pale skin. A lone guard stood in the courtyard below, keeping watch. Morgana was amazed at how someone could stand so still, she herself felt restless. That's when she heard it, the voice of someone old, someone saying her name. Morgana, it repeated over and over again. A stupor came about her as stepped up from her bed

and began to follow the voice out of her room, through winding corridors, her bare feet patting

on the cool stone. She reached the tallest tower of the castle and the door pushed open before

her. Despite the blast of night air she did not feel cold. Looking out at the village and forests

below, she felt at peace.

Then a sound broke the silence of the night. It was a swishing sound, coming from behind her,

getting louder and louder. She turned around and saw a dark shape making its way across the

sky. It was getting bigger and bigger, and Morgana realized that it was coming towards her. As it

neared her she saw that it had a great pair of wings. It landed on the tower close to her.

Morgana supposed she should feel afraid but instead she was curious.

It was a great dragon, with huge leathery wings, horns, and big yellow eyes. Eyes that she had seen in her dream.

"Morgana Pendragon," his voice boomed. "The future traitor of Camelot."

"Excuse me?" she replied. She would never turn against Camelot. It was her home, her life.

"You have much to learn, young sorceress," he said knowingly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, aware that he had implied that she had magic.

"Your dreams, do you know why you have them?"

"How do you know about that?!" she demanded. He was a dragon, he must have mystical abilities, but how could he have known of her nightmares?

"I have my ways," he answered slyly. "You have magic, do you not?"

"Of course not! How could I? Sorcery is treason!" A knot of fear was growing in her stomach.

"You have power, why ignore it?"

"I do not have magic! It is forbidden."

"You have always wanted power, yet you never knew you had it. Now you have a chance to harness it."

Her anger at the creature's blatant accusation flared up to such a boiling point that she shrieked. "I - am - not - a - witch!"

Yet as though just to prove her wrong she felt her eyes burn and sparks escaped from under her fingernails.

The dragon laughed heartily. "You know know nothing of your identity or your past, do you?"

In her rage she fled the tower.


End file.
